Page 3 of Strict Daddy

"I'm not afraid of hard work." The words came out softer than I intended, but there was a thread of steel beneath them.

A smile played at the corners of Byron's mouth, a look of satisfaction flashing in his eyes. "Good. Because I have a feeling you're capable of more than you know."

He was ridiculously handsome. Stupidly attractive. He had cool, blue eyes and a jaw that looked like it had been cut from stone. Close-cropped scruff and a clean, masculine crop of dark hair, shot through with threads of silver. He was just her type, too—a little older than her, kind of a dirty daddy-looking guy.

Yum.

Byron was the kind of man you’d dream about kissing and touching, but deep down, you knew it would never happen.

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space. I caught a hint of his scent—clean sweat and something dark and spicy that made my head spin.

"I've been watching you, Poppy. The way you move. The fire in your eyes. You have potential." His voice dropped an octave, sending liquid heat rushing through my veins.

My breath caught in my throat. I knew I should step back, put some distance between us. But I was rooted to the spot, caught in his orbit like a moth drawn to a flame.

"What kind of potential?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"The kind that could change your life. If you're brave enough to embrace it."

His words were a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down at my feet. I knew I was standing on the edge of something momentous, a decision that could alter the course of my existence. But looking into those fathomless eyes, I felt a strange sense of certainty settle over me.

"I'm not afraid," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my body.

His smile widened, a predatory gleam in his gaze. "We'll see about that, little dove. We'll see. Do you mind if I adjust your posture?"

I bit my lip. Was he asking permission to touch me?

“Okay,” I replied, feeling almost sick with anticipation.

Sure enough, I felt his strong hand at the small of my back, making tiny adjustments to the way I was standing. His touch was electric, his skin rough against mine. “That should help. Remember, to push with your glutes—”

“My glutes?”

“Buttocks.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. How was I going to find the money to join this damn gym?

“My personal training style,” he continued, finally taking his hand away from my back, “is a little unique.” I knew I should step back, put some distance between us, but I couldn't seem to make my feet obey.

"W-what exactly does your unique style entail?" I managed to ask, my voice trembling slightly.

Byron's lips curved into an enigmatic smile. "Complete surrender, little one. Pushing past your limits. Embracing the pleasure that comes from relinquishing control. There would be some paperwork. A contract. But my method gets results."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, equal parts thrilling and terrifying. I'd never considered myself the type to give up control, but something about Byron made me want to explore parts of myself I'd kept hidden away.

"And you think I have potential for that?" I asked, my breath catching as his thumb brushed over my lower lip.

"I know you do. I can see it in your eyes." His voice was a low rumble, filled with dark promise.

This was crazy. I’d only just started talking to the man, but I felt like I was ready to obey him, to throw myself at his feet and pant.

It was hard, but I had to remind myself that he was offering me personal training, not anything else.

There’s no way he’s interested in someone like you. Don’t make yourself vulnerable.

"Thank you for the offer, Byron. I’ll think about it." I stepped back, regaining some semblance of space between us.

His eyes held mine for a moment longer before he nodded. "Very well, Poppy. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to submit. Just remember, I don't do things halfway."

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